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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958028">Problems, Plural</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchy_and_unformed/pseuds/sickly%20_sweet'>sickly _sweet (sketchy_and_unformed)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>CKY (Band), Viva La Bam RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Character Study, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2005-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2005-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:14:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,918</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchy_and_unformed/pseuds/sickly%20_sweet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bam knows what his problem is. Problems, plural. He gets too attached, too love-like, even when it’s more than one person at once.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Deron Miller/Bam Margera, Ryan Dunn/Bam Margera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Livejournal reposts: CKY/HIM</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Problems, Plural</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bam doesn’t bother to remember how all of this started. Mostly he doesn’t even know what ‘this’ is. Mostly he feels like he’s waiting for something, and right now it’s Dunn and that just isn’t right. Desperation is a word that Bam often comes back to. See also: frustration. Bam needs something, needs it so badly sometimes that he imagines it hurts, but he still won’t admit it out loud. He’d only fuck it up worse than he has already. It’s almost funny when he thinks that Dunn was right, only he was looking in the wrong place. It never would have been Novak. Too close for comfort, and not blonde enough.<br/>
<br/>
So Bam skates, he fucks shit up, ain’t it the life. And lately he’s had Deron to keep him on an even keel, although he can’t admit it’s anything more than sex to anyone but himself, he’s not even sure that it is, then his brain starts to hurt so he grabs a camera and some electrical tape and runs off to see what fun he can think up.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
One afternoon he’s in the yard, sunglasses on and trying to convince Raab to run straight into one of the downstairs windows just to see what will happen. Raab’s a little wary, he’s only had two beers so far, and Bam sighs wearily and yells out “Quit being a pussy, dude, just barge it!”, and a strong sense of déjà vu sweeps over him as Raab takes a run up. The crash of breaking glass and April’s shrill scream barely register; he hears a gleeful laugh but he’s not a hundred percent sure it’s his. Suddenly he wonders where Dunn is and what Deron’s doing simultaneously, then remembers pretty brunette girls and has to fight the urge to spit. Part of him feels disconnected and Bam doesn’t get scared, but if he did, he might be.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
Deron’s fucked up, has to be. Probably not as much as Bam is, but fucked up all the same. He doesn’t shave as often as he should, his eyes are bloodshot. Sometimes Bam thinks it might be because he’s Jess’ brother, but he tries not to go down that path. Deron doesn’t often look at Bam when he’s slamming into him; Bam’s usually face down and they both prefer it that way. Bam buries his face in the pillows and wonders if he could suffocate like that, thinks that it’d be a pretty neat way to die, suffocating during sex. Like that autoerotic asphyxiation thing he’s heard about, that people have accidentally hung themselves trying to do. Then he wonders when the fuck he started <em>thinking</em> during sex, he never used to with Dunn, and suddenly he comes with a shudder and Deron grunts and rolls off of him, and this time he’s sober enough to make it out of Bam’s room before the morning.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
Bam’s putting on eyeliner in the bathroom, mouth slightly open and free hand leaning against the counter, when a familiar voice in the doorway makes him jump and draw a black line from his temple to his ear. He says “Thanks a lot, fucker” warmly and Ryan’s smile is reflected back at him. Bam realises it’s the first time he’s ever seen his reflection; he hadn’t known if he’d even had one.<br/>
<br/>
Ryan walks over to him, half of his face hidden behind dark visor sunglasses, and starts to paw at Bam’s hair like some kind of monkey. Bam tries to dig him in the ribs but Ryan bends out of the way and flashes another lopsided smile. Ryan finds what he was looking for and traces a thumb over the line of scar tissue, says “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” Bam mumbles “’s okay”, and one of Dunn’s hands stays in his hair. He murmurs “I haven’t seen you for so long,” and Bam replies “I’m not the one who left,” then feels massively infantile and cuts off Ryan’s next words with “Don’t say it. I get it.” Ryan grins and Bam closes his eyes and waits to be kissed, only it doesn’t happen, and then Ryan’s leaving again, telling Bam “I’ll be around if you need me. See you later” and closing the door behind him, although it had been open before. Bam feels his face flush and he screams “What the fuck?” straight at the mirror but no one answers him, even though the walls almost shake with the force of it.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
It’s no wonder ‘fuck’ is one of Bam’s favourite words when the world is a fucked up place full of fuckers waiting to either fuck you or fuck your life up. Bam grins to himself at that and gets an odd look from Rake, but he doesn’t stop.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
Deron drags his lips along Bam’s neck, scratches with stubble and teeth, mumbles “You know what your problem is?” And Bam squeezes his eyes shut and swallows hard, starts to choke out an answer but then Deron kisses him, hard, and he starts to cry instead. His chest shakes and hot tears hit Deron’s face, making him jump back and wipe his mouth slowly, staring at Bam. Bam scrubs at his eyes viciously, disgusted with himself, cursing through his teeth. He watches Deron cough, then run a hand through his hair, then straighten his shirt, and thinks that he looks somewhere close to terrified. Bam almost laughs but doesn’t because he can’t afford to lose this as well, so he clears his throat and mumbles an apology. Deron’s eyes flicker around the room nervously and Bam feeds him the excuse he’s looking for.<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe some other time?”<br/>
<br/>
Deron looks relieved and Bam marvels at the fact that this man has a brand new baby at home and yet he still can’t deal with people crying. He wastes no time in leaving and Bam flops back onto his bed and stares at the ceiling for an unhealthy amount of time before throwing on a cleanish shirt and heading downstairs.<br/>
<br/>
Later that night he’s the last one to bed, internet and channel surfing until 2:30 when he feels dulled rather than sleepy and goes to bed. His mind is pretty blank for once and he miraculously doesn’t feel like screwing anybody but he decides to jerk off anyway just because he never feels like sleeping, and he’s thinking about inane shit instead of sex so it takes him fifteen minutes to come and when he finally does it’s unsatisfying in every way possible, and Bam thinks that maybe if it had just been those last thirty seconds it wouldn’t have been such a complete waste of time. But it’s another hour before he’s asleep so he does it again all the same.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
The first thing that Bam does when he opens his eyes is say “I’m Bam Margera and I can do whatever the fuck I want” just because he feels like it. He throws on dirty jeans and Adios and slides down the banister, earning a shriek from Ape that he tunes out easily. On his way through the kitchen he snags a slice of toast from Phil’s plate because “You’re fat enough already” and doesn’t even sit down to eat it, just dashes straight outside, grabbing his board on the way.<br/>
<br/>
He holds the toast between his teeth as he climbs up the side of the half pipe and tries not to think too much like he usually does. Some chick he kissed in eighth grade, before Ryan and Deron moved to West Chester, told him it’s because he’s an air sign, and he never bothered to find out if she was right or not. He thinks he’s a Libra but he can’t remember what that means or who told him. Anyway, he’s not into that junk, and he’s doing it again.<br/>
<br/>
Bam drops in and lets physics take over for a while until he tries a tail grab and misses the rail on the way back down, face planting hard into the wood. He groans a little as the blood starts to trickle from his nose and he’s pissed when no one rushes over to scream at or comfort him.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
Bam knows what his problem is. Problems, plural. He gets too attached, too love-like, even when it’s more than one person at once. He has a tendency to obsess over people. He likes getting fucked by Deron. It’s different. Images of Ryan crowd his mind and he wonders aloud when the fuck he lost his balls, spine and guts. Then he wonders when the fuck he started wondering and questioning himself so damn much. Yeah, Bam feels like he has a shit load of problems right now. He hasn’t fucked anyone in two weeks, and this makes him feel uncomfortably emasculated. His fingers dial Deron’s cell on automatic and he’s pissed when he gets voicemail. He wonders who else he could screw but in the end he settles for getting off to some porn. It’s less messy that way. Bam knows he can’t do this for too much longer.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
When Bam got his first deck as a kid, he didn’t even ride it for three days. Instead he spent hours running his fingertips over its surface, in awe of its weight, textures and angles, in awe of the fact that it was his. It’s a habit that he still has, being careful when no one expects him to be, taking his time laying the grip tape and almost compulsory stickers onto a brand new board. Sometimes he won’t start to break them in for weeks because somewhere in his head he’s still the short chubby kid whose parents saved up for months to get him that board.<br/>
<br/>
With Dunn, Bam used to spend hours memorising the angles of his body with his fingers and tongue, learning him like he used to learn his craft, eyes wide and scared beneath his lashes because inside he was still that kid. But Dunn never got annoyed with him over that, never laughed or called him a pussy, and Bam forgot to thank him for that but he wouldn’t bring it up again.<br/>
<br/>
Bam wants to touch Deron that way, sometimes, but he knows he’d never let him. He doesn’t know what Deron wants but he knows it isn’t some insecure kid like him. Deron doesn’t put up with the shit he does in the same way. Bam’s hands make fists in his pockets and he tries not to miss Ryan but it’s too damn easy.<br/>
<br/>
⋄✧⋄<br/>
<br/>
It’s wintertime before Dunn finally comes home, and when he does Bam’s lying on top of his bed shirtless and trying not to shiver ‘cause only pussies wear jumpers. Only Dunn’s wearing one and Bam smirks and says “Nice outfit, Grandpa” and gets the finger in return. Ryan’s hair and beard have grown out far too long, he’s bound to get shit from Ape for it. He sits down on Bam’s bed and leans over and kisses him and he still tastes like cigarettes and beer, which makes Bam smile and hook an arm around him, and it isn’t long before they’re lazily fucking, not even bothering to check if the door’s locked first. Afterwards Dunn lights up a cigarette and Bam curls into his chest, looking up through the bluish smoke. He blurts out “Missed you, asshole” and Ryan laughs and plants a kiss in his hair and Bam feels his skin start to warm up, a little.</p>
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